


Worth Fighting For

by Katalina_Riddle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 11:43:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14377935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katalina_Riddle/pseuds/Katalina_Riddle
Summary: Katie Bell and Marcus Flint are enemies on the Quidditch pitch. But after an on-field catastrophe, will Marcus change his stripes?





	Worth Fighting For

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kaarina_Riddle](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaarina_Riddle/gifts).



> This work, as usual, is for the world's best beta and my constant source of support and encouragement, KR...love you Twinnie!
> 
> There are characters, events and some plot lines that are the property of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made.

“Now, I want a good, clean game.  _ From all of you!”  _ Madame Hooch stood on the pitch, whistle at the ready, Quaffle in hand, ready to release the Snitch and the Bludgers. Harry and Draco were already quibbling high above the pitch.

“Hey, Katie, psssst.” Fred Weasley whispered theatrically loud, well within earshot of the Slytherin team. “Try not to hurt them too bad, alright? We need them in one piece so we can beat them again in a few weeks.”

This statement successfully earned him sneers and anger from the Slytherin squad. “Think they’re a bit mad, Freddy? Or have they all just had too much sun today?” The innocent wonder in George’s voice was perfectly articulated with a gaze around at the spectacularly dreary afternoon, with not a drop of sunlight to be seen. The Gryffindor team were in fits of laughter, whilst the Slytherin players flushed deeper shades of red.

“You’re in for it, Weasley,” sneered Marcus Flint. He had earned a reputation as a brutal player with a  _ “take no prisoners”  _ mentality; and when it came to his teammates, insulting them was the worst thing anyone could do. Slytherin was his family.  _ So those Gryffindor’s had better watch out,  _ he thought to himself. Then, Madame Hooch released the Bludgers and the Snitch, put the whistle to her lips and threw the Quaffle up.  _ The game was on. _

Lee Jordan was going mental on the microphone as usual. “Warrington is in control of the Quaffle, for now, passes it long to Flint, who shoots, but WHAT A SAVE by Wood! Ladies, get his number, he’s a keeper!” Professor McGonagall put her hand over the microphone at this. “Apologies, Professor...moving on...Bell has the Quaffle, passes to Spinnet, who moves it quickly on to Johnson, Johnson shoots and SCORES! 10 points to Gryffindor! And may I just say, Angelina, that was brilliant. What a witch.” He created a muggle telephone symbol  and put it to his ear, mouthing the words “call me” with a wink and a grin.

Professor McGonagall groaned, Angelina shook her head and laughed.

“Before George sends a Bludger in the direction of my head, let’s continue,” Lee said, laughing as George shook his Beater’s bat at him jokingly. “Gryffindor well and truly in control of this game as Wood saves another goal! Come again another day Flint! Wood passes to Bell, who weaves and dodges almost the whole length of the pitch to SCORE! What a display! I defy anyone to top that for a flying effort today!”

Flint’s eyes were following Katie Bell, a mixture of anger and admiration clouding them. She was talented alright. She was making a fool out of the Slytherin quidditch players. Enough was enough. As Gryffindor caught possession of the Quaffle again, he made a snap decision. Gryffindor were going down. “ _ Warrington! Get Wood!”  _ Warrington intercepted the Quaffle and flew full speed ahead.

“WOOD! He’s not slowing down! Get out of the way!” George Weasley smashed a Bludger towards the rogue Slytherin Chaser, but missed, and Warrington collided with Wood.

Oliver Wood was out of action. His broom had been damaged in the collision, and he had come out of the ambush with a broken wrist. He was lucky that was all. The scores now lay at 40 to 90 in favour of Slytherin; with no Keeper, it was impossible to stop the onslaught of Slytherin goals.

Marcus Flint was ecstatic and did not hold back in showing it. He flew inches from Katie’s side. “How do you like that, Bell?” he sneered.

Katie grinned. “Finally putting up a fight are we, Flint?” Marcus’ eyes now reflected pure hatred. He needed to get her out of the game.

“ _ Montague! Take the other side!”  _ Graham Montague flew down so he was on the other side of Katie. She had the Quaffle and the goals were in sight. But just then she felt both the boys pressing against her, trying to push her into the sights of a Bludger. “ _ Crabbe! Bludger! Now!”  _ Katie saw it coming and felt Flint and Montague separate from her...she was falling. And then...nothing.

The Gryffindor players hadn’t even changed out of their Quidditch robes. They were all in the hospital wing crowded around Katie’s bed. She still hadn’t woken up. “Please Madam Pomfrey...is there anything you can tell us?” This came from Hermione in a choked voice.

She had initially only been there to comfort Fred, but seeing Katie’s weak, unconscious body was affecting her more than she would have liked to admit.

Fred took her hand and laced his fingers through hers. “She’ll be ok, Mia,” he whispered, “She’ll be alright.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled sadly at the young group of students gathered around Katie. She sighed. “I’m afraid that I can’t tell you much. I will not be able to ascertain the full extent of her injuries until she awakes. She has several broken ribs. She has a fractured femur, a broken nose, and she has dislocated her left shoulder and her jaw.” The students were getting more worried with every word she spoke. She continued, “But there may be some injuries that we can’t see. Her brain may be bleeding. If she doesn’t wake up by tomorrow, we shall have to transfer her to St Mungos. I’m sorry, students, I wish I had better news.”

Marcus had opened the door to the hospital wing, seen all the Gryffindor players crowding around Katie, and reversed straight back out. He had watched her fall. And now he had to admit to himself that it had been harder than he thought. He would go back later to see her when nobody was watching. He had left, but not before he was noticed by Madam Pomfrey.

She smiled kindly at him before he exited; she understood, and would not judge him. After all, being young was all about making mistakes. One’s true worth was measured not in how many mistakes one makes, but how one learns from those mistakes.

She had a feeling young Mr Flint would learn quickly that some things are worth letting go of- but some are worth holding on to.

Finally, it was dark. The only lights that shone were those standing watch on the exterior of the school. Marcus Flint had gone to bed fully clothed. Now, he slipped out of his bed and threw on his coat and scarf. Wearing only socks on his feet (shoes were too loud, he decided), he began to walk silently to the hospital wing. He shivered as his feet touched the huge flagstones, wondering when it had got so cold. “Lumos,” he whispered, producing a dull light from the end of his wand so he could see where he was going.

Marcus stood in front of the large oak doors. Beyond them lay Katie, hurt and unconscious because of him. His head hurt thinking about it. He was running it over in his mind; what he had done, and what he could have done differently. What if she died? There was a chance she could never wake up. What if he had killed Katie? He found even the thought of it completely abhorrent. So he stood, staring at the doors, working up the courage to go inside.

  
A quiet cough behind Marcus caused him to freeze on the spot. “Those doors won’t open by themselves, Mr Flint.” He turned around. Madam Pomfrey was standing there in her bright yellow dressing gown  _ which was truly dreadful  _ holding a lit candle in her hand, with her hair up in rollers.

She smiled at him. “I had a feeling I might find you here, Mr Flint,” she said with a chuckle. Marcus looked at the floor.

Madam Pomfrey pushed open the door. “Right,” she said in a commanding tone, “in you go. And don’t come out until you’ve made things right.”

Marcus looked confused. “But...she’s unconscious. She can’t talk to me.”

Madam Pomfrey smiled softly. “Not with her. With yourself.”

Marcus walked slowly through the open door. As he approached Katie’s unresponsive, helpless body, his heart began to pound as if it would explode out of his chest. He walked all the way to the single bed at the end of the hospital wing. And then he stopped dead in his tracks. Katie lay on top of the bed in a white nightgown, her long brown hair draped over her shoulders.

Marcus lost his breath for a minute. Outside the Quidditch pitch, he had never noticed her before. Was he too late? He didn’t know. But it was time to take Madam Pomfrey’s advice. He pulled up a chair next to her bed. Silence reigned.  _ What does one say to a girl who can’t reply? _

“I...I...I don’t really know what to say to you, Katie,” Marcus murmured softly, for once unsure of himself. There was another extended pause, and then: “I’m sorry.” Those words felt strange coming off his tongue; Marcus Flint was not one to admit weakness. He preferred a display of brute strength and overbearing confidence. But that’s all it was; a display. A show, a mask to keep his reputation strong and his pureblood family happy. It was exhausting sometimes; and now the weakness was showing. It was almost a relief.

He sighed and slumped in the chair. A headache started to form at the front of his head. This whole situation was making him think too hard. His head started to spin, so he closed his eyes.

But when he closed his eyes, all he saw was Katie, falling from ninety feet in the air. He shuddered and opened his eyes. Ten minutes had gone. Nothing had changed. She was still motionless and peaceful.

He was still agitated and tormented. Marcus sighed. He had never once felt remorse for his actions before...so why did he feel such guilt and suffering this time? Sleep would help, if he could let himself.

Morning came. The sun peered through the windows, signalling the start of a new day. Madam Pomfrey quietly entered the hospital wing and observed the sight before her. Katie was still asleep, but Marcus had covered her with his dressing gown. The boy lay askew in the chair, his black hair tousled and unkempt, legs dangling over the arm, head resting against the back. He was in a state of slumber now, but peace looked like it had taken a long time to arrive. Madam Pomfrey smiled sadly. Life had not been kind to Marcus Flint. But she had a feeling he was well on his way to figuring it out.

Madam Pomfrey approached Katie’s bed, waking Marcus as her skirts swept past him. He started, but settled again  once he realised who it was. He watched her anxiously as she monitored Katie’s vital signs, checked her breathing, pupil dilation and pulse rate.

She sighed and shook her head slightly. “I’m very much afraid, Mr Flint, that I’m going to have to reach out to St Mungos. She needs more help than I am able to provide.” She saw a single tear roll down his face. Her heart ached for him. “There’s nothing more I can do for her, Marcus.”

Madam Pomfrey left the room. Marcus sat forward in his chair. He grasped Katie’s hand and laid his forehead on the soft white wrist. “Forgive me, Katie,” the words were forced out in an agonised whisper, as Marcus realised the magnitude of his actions and the possible consequences.

He stood up to leave with a heavy heart. And then…” _ Marcus.” _

It was the softest whisper. If he wasn’t wishing for it, he might not have heard it. Marcus turned around and faced Katie. Her eyes were half open, her lips parted in a half smile, and some colour had returned to her pallid complexion. Marcus stood rooted to the spot, unable to move in shock. “Katie,” he whispered. A coughing fit caused Katie to writhe and struggle to breathe. Marcus was by her side in a flash, holding a glass of water to her dry lips, supporting her neck with his strong arm.

Katie sipped the water he offered her, very aware of his strength beside her as he held her a little tighter than what she would have considered normal. She found it oddly comforting. Her eyes became adjusted to the light. Marcus gently laid her back against her pillows and took a step back from the bed. Katie stared at him.

His black hair was untidy, his appearance dishevelled, the top buttons of his shirt had come undone, and he had tear stains on his cheeks. A realisation dawned on her. “Did you sleep there...all night?” Marcus lifted his eyes to meet hers and nodded slightly. She smiled and closed her eyes. But she was not asleep. “Did we win?” He looked confused. “The match. Did we win?”

There was half a second of silence before Marcus answered, “Yes. Yes you did.”

Katie smiled gently and nodded. “Then tell me one thing Marcus. Was this...was all of this...worth it?” Before he could answer, her eyes closed and she fell into a light sleep.

Just then, Madam Pomfrey burst into the room with two orderlies from St Mungos. Marcus yelled out, “No, wait Madam Pomfrey! Please wait! She...she’s alright! She was awake and talking just thirty seconds ago!” His voice was desperate as he whispered, “Please. Please let her stay.”

Madam Pomfrey saw the desperation and hope in his eyes and shook her head at the orderlies. “Leave her.”

Marcus sent a thankful look in the direction of the kindly matron. And Katie smiled in her sleep. He had fought for her.

Over the following few days, Katie’s health came back and her spirits rose. The constant visits of her teammates and friends during the day were welcomed; but she looked forward to nightfall, when she knew that Marcus Flint would sit by her bed and take up a moonlight vigil. They would just talk. They talked about their families, the things that were important to them, and they found that they had a lot of things in common.

Katie was constantly surprised by this side of Marcus that no one ever got to see. Contrary to the quick and fiery temper and the brute strength and bullying reputation, this Marcus was different.  _ He was softer and more sensitive...almost protective. _ And although she struggled to admit it, she was falling for him.

Marcus had always admired Katie’s Quidditch abilities, but he had also hated her for her natural talent. He had targeted, taunted and terrorised her. But now he looked at her differently. He didn’t see the talented Quidditch player. He saw the brave young woman who was capable of so much forgiveness and understanding. He could see her heart, and it glowed.

This went on for several days as Katie’s wounds and broken bones began to heal and repair. She was unable to move very far for very long; but at night when Marcus came, he would put his arm around her and hold her hand and they would walk to the window so she could see the night sky. He was very gentle with her, always afraid that he would do something more to hurt her. She was grateful,  _ although,  _ she thought,  _ I’m not a china doll. _

The day came that Katie was finally deemed well enough by Madam Pomfrey to attend school and go back to her dormitory. “Please, Madam Pomfrey, please just...just one more day.”

Madam Pomfrey’s eyes smiled. She knew exactly what was happening. She raised her eyebrows at Katie. “Alright Miss Bell. You may have one more night with Mr Flint. But tomorrow, you go back to school.”

Katie looked immensely shocked at the fact that the matron knew Marcus was coming to see her, that Madam Pomfrey struggled to keep in delightful peals of laughter. As she moved out of the room she called over her shoulder, “Just  _ one more day!” _

That night, as usual, Marcus came to see her. He sat on the edge of her bed and held her hand. “A little birdie tells me you’re coming back to classes tomorrow.” Katie smiled and nodded, but her face was sad.

He laid a hand on her cheek. “Hey,” he said softly, “what’s the matter, Miss Bell?”

She lifted her eyes to his, glistening with unshed tears. “Tomorrow, everything will go back to normal. You’ll forget all about me. And we’ll go back to being Quidditch enemies.” The tears started to run.

“Oh, Katie,” he breathed, “that’s not true. It’s not. You have to let me prove it to you. I’ve changed, Katie, I have. You changed me.” His grey eyes were reassuring and immediately put her mind at rest. “You wait and see,” he said, as he intertwined his fingers with hers and planted a chaste kiss on the back of her hand, “I’m not ashamed of you Katie. It should very much be the other way around.”

Katie’s grip on his hand tightened. “Stay with me, Marcus?” He nodded. He would stay with her for as long as she wanted. Forever, if she asked.

The following morning, it was all excitement and jubilation as Katie walked by herself into the Great Hall and was immediately surrounded by her friends. She was very thankful to be back, but while she shared in her friends’ relief and happiness, her eyes were roaming the very full Hall for a glimpse of one person. Her heart sank when she couldn’t see him.  _ See,  _ she thought,  _ nothing has changed.  _ She sighed, and turned back around. And then she saw him.

Marcus Flint knew exactly what he was going to do. He had to make a statement. And he knew how he felt about Katie. She was beautiful, both inside and out. He knew that she wasn’t convinced of his commitment, so today he was going to show her. He entered the Great Hall and saw her there, surrounded by her friends, laughing and chatting excitedly. He smiled. One look at the Slytherin table, and it was obvious that they were nowhere near as impressed at her recovery. But it didn’t matter. He took a deep breath and strode towards her.

Their eyes connected. She saw Marcus moving towards her, walking with purpose and urgency. He seemed to take an age to reach her. He took her face in both of his hands and firmly but sweetly claimed her mouth with his own. She stood in total shock for a split second before reaching her arms up to wrap around his neck and returning his kiss with gusto. The entirety of the student body gasped loudly as they watched this display, most in shock, some in horror. The Slytherin students were looking disgusted but resigned. Marcus Flint, the brutal, bullying Quidditch player, had somehow managed to snare the kind and sweet-tempered Katie Bell.

“Hey Freddy,” whispered George very loudly, “could you go look out the window and see if pig are flying? Or if the moon has turned blue?” With that input from George, Marcus and Katie pulled away.

Katie smiled up at him and laid her head on his shoulder. Marcus held her gently. “You once asked me, Katie, if what I did was worth it.”

She looked up at his face, listening. He sighed. “What I did to you was terrible, Katie. I was utterly awful. And for the match, no, it wasn’t worth it. But this? This is worth it. You are worth it. I’m going to fight for you, Katie.”

_ Katie smiled up at him and laid her forehead against his. “Love is always worth it, Marcus.” _


End file.
